


I'm In Here

by NeneDiallo



Series: Teen Wolf Drabbles [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Teen Wolf Drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2086134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeneDiallo/pseuds/NeneDiallo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wondered how Meredith felt, how she decided it was it, how she decided she couldn’t do this anymore, how she made the rope and wrapped it around her neck.</p><p>Finally how she took away her own life because she could no longer take the misery.</p><p>Except that it wasn’t Meredith Lydia saw in her mind.</p><p>It was herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm In Here

**Author's Note:**

> "Weaponized" made me want to write something about Lydia Martin, then I listened heartbreaking song "I'm In Here" by Sia and that's how this drabble was born. This is my version of the scene in Lydia's grandmother's house. Be warned there are mentions of suicide in it.
> 
> Enjoy the angst (or cry because Lydia is completely alone and hurting)!

Lydia didn’t go to Meredith’s funeral.

She couldn’t.

She was the one who killed her.

She pushed the girl to the edge, ignoring her mental state, focusing only on herself and her own goal.

She did what she was always doing.

She was selfish and hopeless.

The selfishness tightened the rope around Meredith’s neck.

That hopelessness hanged the Banshee.

_I'm in here, can anybody see me?_

Instead of going to the funeral Lydia went to her Grandma’s house and locked herself in the soundproof room.

The strawberry blonde was sitting on the floor, staring at the box with Meredith’s belongings not daring to open it.

_Can anybody help?_

She wasn’t supposed to get it in the first place but Parrish gave it to her.

She still remembered the look in his eyes, the silent accusation.

He thought it was her fault.

He was right.

She kept staring at the box, her eyes blank, focused on the image filling her mind.

She wondered how Meredith felt, how she decided it was it, how she decided she couldn’t do this anymore, how she made the rope and wrapped it around her neck.

Finally how she took away her own life because she could no longer take the misery.

Except that it wasn’t Meredith Lydia saw in her mind.

It was herself.

_I'm in here, I'm calling out but you can't hear, Can anybody help?_

Lydia could practically feel the rope embracing her neck, bruising the delicate skin there.

She could feel her throat tightening, drying out. She could feel her soul and mind drifting away from her body.

_I'm in here, a prisoner of history, Can anybody help?_

But this wasn’t what made the tempting image.

Allison was.

To see a smile lightening her face, to be able to give her a long awaited hug, to be able to see her, to talk to her.

To not be the one responsible for her death.

It was tempting. I

t was the temptation that terrified her, one couldn’t resist it forever.

It was the temptation that made her reach out to her phone and press one.

_Can't you hear my call? Are you coming to get me now?_

Lydia’s hands were trembling as she repeated a well-known mantra in her mind.

“Please answer”

“I need you”

“Please answer”

“I need you Stiles”

The only answer she got was a busy tone.

_I've been waiting for, You to come rescue me_

Something she’d been hearing a lot recently.

Something she’d slowly gotten used to.

 _I need you to hold, All of the sadness I cannot, live with inside of me_.

That’s why when tears started streaming down her face she didn’t understand why they were falling.

The teardrops stayed untouched by her resistance.

_I'm crying out, I'm breaking down, I am fearing it all_

They kept falling and as they fell Lydia felt her heart shattering.

Again.

_Stuck inside these walls, Tell me there is hope for me_

Her mouth opening, a scream escaping her lips.

It wasn’t a wail of a Banshee.

It was a scream of girl who had lost too much.

It was a scream of a girl who was losing herself.

_Is anybody out there listening?_

But there was no one listening.

No one.

_I'm in here, can anybody see me?_

_Can anybody help?_


End file.
